Blind Date

Blind Date

By

Veronica Tower

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. 

Blind Date by Veronica Tower

Red Rose™ Publishing

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Red Rose™ Publishing

Copyright© 2011
Veronica Tower

ISBN: 978-1-4543-006-3

Cover Artist: Shirley Burnett

Editor: Keren Childers

  Line Editor:
Pam

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Due to copyright laws you cannot trade, sell or give any ebooks away.

This is a work of fiction. All references to real places, people, or events are coincidental, and if not coincidental, are used fictitiously. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

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Blind Date

By

Veronica Tower

Part I: The Date

Chapter One

Chris

Chris rang the doorbell and stood nervously worrying about first impressions. Blind dates sucked and he wondered for the umpteenth time how he had let Liv talk him into this one. Of course, her description of Merci had helped—luscious black hair, large breasts, firm thighs and a kicking ass—but tantalizing as Liv made Merci sound he was still standing on a stranger’s doorstep on the advice of a woman who at best only tolerated him. He’d deserve it if this night went wrong. What had he been thinking of when he trusted Liv?

Chris adjusted his tie and resisted the urge to walk away as the sounds of footsteps approached the door. His mouth went dry and his heart leapt out of his chest and up into his throat. He took a deep breath trying futilely to calm his nerves.

The door opened.

“Hi, I’m—”

Chris broke off as a beautiful black woman in a tight red dress appeared before him. She had rich mahogany skin, large dark eyes and a friendly, inviting smile. Too bad Chris was at the wrong place. The lucky guy this woman was waiting for had a treat in store for him tonight.

“I’m sorry,” Chris told her. “I must have the wrong address. Do you know Merci LaCroix?”

The woman’s smile broadened. “Let me guess, Liv didn’t tell you I’m black.”

Chris felt his mouth drop open as he realized the extent of his blunder. “Merci? God, I’m sorry! I ... Liv described you but she didn’t say you’re... I feel like such an idiot!”

Merci took Chris’ misstep in stride. “Well you know, Liv,” she told him. “On some issues she can be so PC. She probably decided it was socially incorrect to mention that you look Nordic and I look African. Let me guess. She told you I’ve got long dark hair, brown eyes and great tits.”

That was closer to Liv’s description than Chris wanted to admit, although it left out Liv’s assurance that if Chris showed Merci a good time she’d be a sure thing at the end of the evening. Chris decided against full disclosure, sharing only the flattering information. “She also said you’re well-traveled, know how to enjoy life and will really make me laugh.”

Thankfully, Merci smiled. It was a truly beautiful expression: warm, friendly, inviting...

“That sounds like Liv,” she said.

“So how did she describe me?” Chris asked. “Did she mention I’m white?” He wasn’t really sure he wanted to know what Liv had said about him, but then it couldn’t be all bad or Merci would have never agreed to go out with him.

“Not exactly,” Merci admitted, “but it was obvious from the context.”

“I’m not sure what you mean by that,” Chris said.

“Maybe if this evening goes well I’ll explain it to you,” Merci answered.

Chris grinned. “Does that mean that despite my social blunder you’d still like to go out tonight?”

“Why not?” Merci asked. “Liv recommends you and you’re obviously pleased with the idea.”

Chris hoped she couldn’t see just how pleased. Merci looked absolutely stunning! It occurred to him that he’d never slept with a black woman. The prospect felt exotic and exciting. He’d forgive Liv for the gaps in her description of Merci so long as she was correct in the rest of her assessment.

Chapter Two

Merci

Merci’s heart beat rapidly as she took her seat on the passenger side of Chris’ mustang. She couldn’t believe she’d let Liv talk her into this. Bad enough she was going on a blind date but did Liv really think she could go through with the rest of the evening? What if Chris got mad? What if he didn’t take no for an answer? How the hell was this supposed to work?

The driver’s side door opened and Chris got behind the wheel. He really was cute. Nordic didn’t really capture him properly. He looked like an old time Viking warrior with blond hair, blue eyes and an impressive physique. He had to be at least six foot four and his hands were massive.

He flashed her a cocky smile. Liv had succeeded in off-footing him by not warning him Merci was black, but he’d recovered quickly enough as Merci was certain Liv expected. It made sense. Only a really arrogant SOB would let a woman who hates him set him up on a date. Liv insisted that Chris didn’t know she hated him, but nobody could really be that stupid. Despite her slight figure, Liv was as subtle as a rhinoceros.

“So where are we going?” Merci asked.

“Antonio’s,” Chris told her. “You know it?”

Merci did. Antonio’s was five-star classy. Matching the restaurant with the Mustang suggested Chris was pretty wealthy. Liv had said he was some sort of bond broker, but Merci didn’t really know much about that profession. “Very nice,” she said. “Do you go there often?”

“My first time,” Chris said. “Left on my own I’m a pizza and burger kind of guy, but this seemed like a great opportunity to try something different.”

Merci nodded thoughtfully, uncertain if she should give Chris points for honesty or blame him for not being real with her. A first date—especially a blind date—ought to give the couple a chance to get to know each other.

“How about you? Do you like Italian?”

“Who doesn’t like Italian?” Merci asked. She wondered if he expected her to say she preferred soul food.

Chris’ grin alleviated that concern. “Good, because you know I’m not wedded to the restaurant. We can go to a steak house if you prefer.”

“Antonio’s is fine,” Merci said. “Really, I’m easy-” Merci cringed internally as she realized what she had just said, then hurried on hoping that Chris wouldn’t notice. “I mean, wherever you want to go is all right with me.”

More of Chris’ pearly white teeth were showing through his smile, but he gave no other sign that he had noticed her unfortunate phrasing. “Let’s try Antonio’s then,” he said, “an unknown restaurant for a blind date. That seems appropriate to me.”

Chapter Three

Chris

Chris began rethinking his opinion of Liv as he escorted Merci into Antonio’s. It wasn’t just him. Every single guy in the restaurant looked up from his table to look at Merci. They couldn’t help themselves and neither could Chris. Her rich black hair, the swell of those mahogany breasts, the way her red dress tightened around her waist and thighs. 

Chris helped Merci into her chair and took the seat opposite before accepting the wine list from the waiter. “So how do you know Liv?” he asked.

“We went to Radcliffe together,” Merci said, “and we’ve stayed friends ever since.”

Chris ran his finger down the list looking for something that would impress Merci. He preferred Jack Daniels, himself, but there was nothing wrong with a good glass of red. He stopped his finger beside a $180 bottle of Bordeaux. He’d never spent that sort of money on wine before, but this seemed like a good occasion to start. “So how come I don’t know you?” Chris asked. “I’ve known Liv for years too—we’re not close friends but we know a lot of the same people.”

Merci saw what he was doing with the wine list and shook her head. “Don’t waste your money,” she told him.

Chris frowned but Merci hastened to explain herself before he could take offense. “Oh, I appreciate the gesture,” she said, “but it really isn’t worth it. Just get the house red.”

Chris laid the menu on the table. “I’d really like to get you something special,” he said. “Why don’t we try a bottle? You like wine don’t you?”

“I love wine,” Merci told him, “but I just can’t see spending that kind of money for something that will be gone in an hour. I’ll be just as happy with the house red.”

“I tell you what,” Chris said, “why don’t we start with a bottle of Bordeaux and if we’re not impressed we can switch to the house red.”

Chris’ suggestion seemed to make Merci uncomfortable. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“How many times do you get to have a first date?” Chris asked her.

Chris swirled the dark liquid about in his glass wondering what it would look like against Merci’s bare flesh. He lifted the glass to his mouth, remembered to stop and scent the bouquet, and then took a tiny sip. Fruity—like most wines he had tried. He couldn’t really believe that anyone could charge $180 for this.